In Two Weeks
by Serenity Ma Sogni
Summary: He was the only one who could beat me to the point of amazement, the only one who could entrance me without a word, he was a champion, a defender, a loser, and a weakling. He was the only one who could handel me, while playing in an international ping pong tournament. MatxGil, rated T for some dark themes and Gilbert's mouth. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

I didn't want to go to Ludwig's god-awful tournament, I really didn't.

Sure, it was an international thing where only the best went, but the reason I turned down my invitation to participate was so I wouldn't have to go to the damn thing.

The last tournament I entered marked the end of my table tennis matches. I only played with Ludwig now, and needless to say my awesomeness beat him every time.

When I walked in the doors of the hall though I was amazed. There were tennis tables _everywhere_, I knew that the tournament would last almost an entire two weeks, and a rep. from almost every country was coming but _damn. _Who the hell needs this many tables?!

"Mein Gott." I heard Ludwig whisper as he stepped inside next to me; surveying the vast amount of tables spread out in the space.

"Holy SHIT man! Dude, like how many Ping-Pong tables does this place need! Haha!"

I wanted to agree with the voice, but the twinge of oblivious stupidity the seemed to waft in after it made me hesitate.

I don't interact with morons.

In walked a boy with bright gold hair and a cocky smile who seemed to ooze confidence.

And stupidity.

A stopped with both hands resting on his hips, elbows out, almost posing as he looked around the large room.

America.

The words seemed ingrained in my mind, there was no way this boy could not be the representative for America; he was practically the perfect stereotype! He was blond, had blue eyes, and was big, and strong looking. The only different thing I wouldn't have placed with him was the glasses resting atop his nose.

The cowlick sticking straight up in his hair completed the image.

The American walked arrogantly to one of the tables and started inspecting it. I found it stupid looking but Ludwig dropped his heavy bag and went to one of the tables too, inspecting the width and the tightness of the net.

Did I look that stupid when I did that also? Mein Gott.

"I'm going to go to our room okay? I want to unpack all my awesome stuff." I held up my bag, but Ludwig didn't turn to see it, only responding with a distracted 'ja.'

I huffed a little at being ignored, but didn't make a scene (like I probably would have done at home) and made my way to where the American had come from.

I passed the boy silently, hesitating a little when I heard him talk to himself, muttering something about adjusting his playing style to fit the table and another thing about cheeseburgers.

I really didn't want to know if that stereotype was true.

The halls I walked down were large and wide, giving space where it wasn't needed and decorated heavily; flaunting the richness of the place.

The many doors I passed were labeled with the Country each of us was from; of course Germany had to be one of the farthest ones from where I came from.

The door was unlocked when I entered, and gaped at the extravagance of the…room? It was separated into three parts, with a bed and dresser in each part. Above each dresser in front of each bed was a flat screen television with a functioning Wii beside it. In the far corner there was a small kitchen with a stove and refrigerator.

"Mein gott!"

"THIS IS SO AWESOME!" I launched myself at the closest bed, almost drooling at the softness of the thing, almost immediately after, I shot to the refrigerator, salivating at that thought of what I might find.

Vegetables, fruit drinks, celery sticks, _healthy food._ I groaned. Ludwig would be overjoyed at the prospect.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig walked in with his bag, and after glaring disapprovingly at the bag I had discarded on the floor he looked around the room.

"They really went all out didn't they?" He mumbled, and set down his bag next to the middle bed.

"Gilbert what are these?" I looked over to find Ludwig inspecting the wall with the utmost scrutiny.

"Those mein libeling, are walls. You see, here in real life we use these to keep other assholes out so they don't rape you in the middle of the night and-"

I was cut off when Ludwig pulled out a long shade in between bed two and three, and attaching it to the opposite wall.

"That's convenient." He muttered, and then turned to his bag.

"THAT IS AWEOSME!" I screeched and pulled the screen that separated my acclaimed bed (the first one) and Ludwig's.

"Gilbert, please keep in mind I need to sleep tonight to prepare for the beginning of the tournament tomorrow."

"Awww but-"

"If I lose because of sleep deprivation we have to leave this room immediately. There is another hall for the losers to stay in and I have a feeling it wont be as nice as this is."

I gaped. There was another hall specifically for losers? Who _does _that?

I flopped back down onto my bed and fiddled with the soft comforter.

Did I want to go see the games tomorrow?

I guess it would be interesting enough; I could compare the competitors to my awesomeness and see who would win…

No, I am going to stay here all day, play Wii, stock the fridge with some unhealthy shit, and sleep.

"West! I'm bored."

"Go practice in the practice rooms then!" I heard him groan from his bed.

I slid off and padded to the door, only pausing to turn off the lights as I exited.


	2. Chapter 2

The familiar sound of a Ping-Pong ball hitting a paddle drew me to the practice rooms, it was a feint sound but after so many years of playing it was like my ears were hypersensitive to the awesome sound.

The door swished heavily as I opened it, revealing a long passage way with clear walls and doors leading into different rooms with tables set up in each one.

From where I was standing, I could see one person at the very end of the hallway in the last room. The rapid pings of the ball hitting the table and back again was enough to tell me the people playing were very into their game.

I walked down the hallway, till I reached the last one, the closer I got the more I could see through the clear walls that separated each room.

I was surprised to find that it was only one person playing, his blonde hair was tied back into a short pony tail and he made short quick movements as if testing himself with every hit he made.

When I walked in, I noticed the light scrapings on the white floor from where the table originally was and smirked.

This boy needed something better than a wall to play against.

"Yo!" I shouted and the kid jumped out of his skin, spinning around rapidly to find the source of the loud yell that I had made.

His eyes widened when he took in my appearance, and to my immense embarrassment I mimicked his action.

The boy was beautiful; with almond shaped blue eyes that caught the light just right and made them look distinctly purple. The blonde hair I had noted earlier was gleaming in the brightness of the room with one stranded curl plucked delicately from the rest. The blush from playing contrasted alluringly with the white surroundings and the paleness of the rest of the boy's visible skin.

He was wearing a hoodie that seemed to hang off him in folds, leaving nothing to the imagination, though the polar bear pajamas he was wearing was something to ponder.

"W-w-w." He struggled with the words, eyebrows no male should possess pulled together with the effort.

"Wh-what a-are y-you d-d-doing in here?"

"The awesome me is going to play with you!"

I was running on autopilot, in actuality Gilbert was still standing in the middle of the room staring (drooling) at the gorgeous boy in front of him while I strode forward and pulled the table back into the original position.

"There an extra paddle?"

The boy's bewildered expression was enough to bring me back as he stared at me like I was something from another world.

"Hello?" I stepped forward and flicked him in the head, earning a small peep that sounded exactly like a bird's peep.

"Ha!" I laughed. "You sound just like a bird Birdie!"

The boy, now dubbed Birdie, blinked a few times at me then backed up a few feet.

"Y-you n-n-oticed m-me?" He stuttered out, breaking the silence. Now it was my turn to blink.

What the hell could that possibly mean? The boy was fucking (oh yes and I mean fucking) gorgeous, how could I _not_ notice him?

"Ja, of course I noticed you Birdie."

Birdie shook his head in -what seemed to be- amazement and handed me a paddle I hadn't noticed him pick up.

He didn't say anything as he walked smoothly around the table though his stride seemed frail with shoulders bent noticeably inwards, he settled before me –not in any kind of stance like some Ping-Pong players I had seen. Just standing straight up.

"No points ja? Just playing for fun." He nodded and fiddled with the paddle before serving the ball lightly to my side of the net.

To be honest I expected the ball to be a lot harder than that, I guess I expected him to be one of those kids that are quiet and awkward in real life but completely different when playing but when I returned the easy serve he just passed it back as softly as he could.

"Why are you going so easily on me?" I challenged mid pass, and he shrugged in response, though his hits got a little bit harder to return after that.

When the small game ended it was unclear who won, Birdie, I noticed, played only defense, waiting for me to make a mistake and lose the point rather than attacking with the ball himself.

Some called it cowardly, many called it strategic.

He hardly uttered a word the entire time, and when he did it came out broken and stuttered.

"Good game." I smiled, and held out my hand to him, I didn't want to admit to myself that I just wanted an excuse to touch him but it was the truth nonetheless.

He looked at my hand intently and his hand twitched a little before he brought it out shakily to meet my own. I shook his hand lightly, almost like he was fragile, remembering the way he moved before I gathered that this boy did indeed act very fragile. Delicate.

"Vat country do you come from?" I asked, and he retracted his hand quickly from mine.

I missed the warmth.

"C-Canada."

He said, and looked away. Canada? Hm, I didn't really know a lot about that country…aren't there a lot of potheads there or something?

I was really glad I didn't say that out loud.

He looked up past my shoulder towards the transparent door.

"I should leave." I mumbled, and he nodded, following me out of the room and down the hallway silently. I pulled the door open and noticed for the first time how much playing with Birdie had worn me out. The cold air from the hallway outside slapped my sweaty skin and pulled a shudder down my spine.

I shifted my gaze to Birdie, who, to my dismay, hadn't broken a sweat the entire time.

Even the pink blush that was on his face when he played by himself wasn't evident on his pale features.

He stopped when I stopped at the large door that separated hallways and kept his gaze to the ground per usual.

I moved forward and to my room, listening to hear Birdie's receding footsteps. I didn't stop when I didn't hear them, but immense confusion when I heard the heavy door sweep open again and fall shut.


End file.
